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ANNIE OF THARAW.
FROM THE LOW GERMAN OF SIMON DACH.
Annie of Tharaw, my true love of old, She is my life, and my goods, and my gold.
Annie of Tharaw, her heart once again To me has surrendered in joy and in pain.
Annie of Tharaw, my riches, my good, Thou, O my soul, my flesh, and my blood!
Then come the wild weather, come sleet or come snow, We will stand by each other, however it blow.
Oppression, and sickness, and sorrow, and pain Shall be to our true love as links to the chain.
As the palm tree standeth so straight and so tall, The more the hail beats, and the more the rains fall,--
So love in our hearts shall grow mighty and strong, Through crosses, through sorrows, through manifold wrong.
Shouldst thou be torn from me to wander alone In a desolate land where the sun is scarce known,--
Through forests I'll follow, and where the sea flows, Through ice, and through iron, through armies of foes.
Annie of Tharaw, my light and my sun, The threads of our two lives are woven in one.
Whate'er I have bidden thee thou hast obeyed, Whatever forbidden thou hast not gainsaid.
How in the turmoil of life can love stand, Where there is not one heart, and one mouth, and one hand?
Some seek for dissension, and trouble, and strife; Like a dog and a cat live such man and wife.
Annie of Tharaw, such is not our love; Thou art my lambkin, my chick, and my dove.
Whate'er my desire is, in thine may be seen; I am king of the household, and thou art its queen.
It is this, O my Annie, my heart's sweetest rest, That makes of us twain but one soul in one breast.
This turns to a heaven the hut where we dwell; While wrangling soon changes a home to a h.e.l.l.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.
SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT.
She was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn; A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
I saw her upon nearer view, A spirit, yet a woman too!
Her household motions light and free, And steps of virgin liberty; A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet; A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
And now I see with eye serene The very pulse of the machine; A being breathing thoughtful breath, A traveler between life and death; The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; A perfect woman, n.o.bly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command; And yet a spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.
NIGHT AND DEATH.
Mysterious Night! when our first parent knew Thee from report divine, and heard thy name, Did he not tremble for this lovely frame, This glorious canopy of light and blue?
Yet 'neath the curtain of translucent dew, Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame, Hesperus, with the host of heaven, came; And lo! creation widened in man's view.
Who could have thought such darkness lay concealed Within thy beams, O Sun? or who could find, While fly, and leaf, and insect stood revealed, That to such countless...o...b.. thou mad'st us blind?
Why do we then shun death with anxious strife?-- If light can thus deceive, wherefore not life?
JOSEPH BLANCO WHITE.
IMMORTALITY.
Forever with the Lord!
Amen! so let it be!
Life from the dead is in that word, And immortality!
Here in the body pent, Absent from Him I roam, Yet nightly pitch my moving tent A day's march nearer home.
My Father's house on high, Home of my soul! how near, At times, to Faith's foreseeing eye, Thy golden gates appear.
Ah! then my spirit faints To reach the land I love, The bright inheritance of saints, Jerusalem above!
Yet clouds will intervene, And all my prospect flies; Like Noah's dove, I flit between Rough seas and stormy skies.
Anon the clouds depart, The winds and waters cease; While sweetly o'er my gladdened heart Expands the bow of peace!
Beneath its glowing arch, Along the hallowed ground, I see cherubic armies march, A camp of fire around.
I hear at morn and even, At noon and midnight hour, The choral harmonies of Heaven Earth's Babel tongues o'erpower.
Then, then I feel, that He, Remembered or forgot, The Lord, is never far from me, Though I perceive Him not.
JAMES MONTGOMERY.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ALFRED TENNYSON.]